She was beginning to like her corner. Her corner was safe.
Her corner was where Theo came for her two days after her interaction with Malfoy. Theo knocked. She liked that about him. She hadn't had privacy in a long time. First, in the tent with Ron and Harry. Then with Malfoy in her head. Now in her cell with elves popping in and out and Malfoy striding in whenever he damn well pleased.
The knocking was nice.
"Cut him some slack, yeah?" He'd said, crouched in front of her with eyes full of pain. He'd brushed his fingers over the teeth marks at her collar bone. "Hermione?" she'd stared at him.
"Why?" she'd said, voice cracking. Theo flinched.
"El," he called without answering. Elodie's face had appeared beside his then.
"Yes sir," she responded. He'd paled and became suddenly very focused on the floor.
"Stay with Granger." she nodded obediently and sat down in the corner.
"This corner is nice." Elodie finally said, breaking the silence. Hermione nodded, chin rubbing against her knees where her head rested on them.
The hours dragged on, Elodie making quiet comments every now and then with Hermione nodding along politely. She reminded Hermione of Luna a bit. Her lilting voice was comforting in a haunted sort of way.
Pipsey visited with the scraps of fabric in which they would be presented to Voldemort once again.
"No dinner this evening, Pipsey?" Hermione asked. Pipsey frowned.
"Masters Malfoy and Nott is saying that the enslaveds will be throwing up if Pipsey is feeding them their dinner."
"That makes perfect sense." Hermione smiled tiredly at the elf. Pipsey stood there, frozen, lips twitching as though she had a pixie caught behind her teeth. She shifted her weight frantically from foot to foot.
"Pipsey is sorry," the words rushed out of the elf's mouth and then she popped into nothingness.
"Ladies," Theo's voice travelled through the heavy door, followed by his knocking. Elodie and Hermione still sat in the corner, with the fabric clutched in their hands.
"Come in, Theodore." Hermione sighed.
"I already told him," Elodie smiled. Hermione stared at her. "It's really rather interesting isn't it? Communicating mind to mind like this." she whispered.
"Quite," Hermione responded, watching as the door creaked open and Theodore slipped through in black robes. Hermione could almost feel Elodie's light go out beside her at the sight, head bowing.
"Elodie, please." he sighed, dragging a hand back through his brown curls.
"I need to get ready." she said, hands fiddling with one another in her lap. "Here," she pointed to her temple.
"Yes, I suppose you do." he exhaled harshly. "You both need to change. We cannot delay."
Elodie stood and immediately, robotically stripped off her jumper and trousers, Theodore cursing under his breath as his hand flew up to cover his eyes.
"Does this not please you, Master?" She asked sadly. It was like a switch had flipped inside her head, breaking her instantly.
"Fuck," Theodore sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "I'll wait outside."
Elodie was changed before the door even slammed shut. Hermione took the offered time and folded her long sleeved dressing gown, laying it flat on the bed before trading it for her leathers.
The door cracked against the wall and Elodie knelt immediately as Malfoy entered the room, Death Eater robes fluttering behind him.
"Mudblood," he greeted, arms tucked behind his back again. Hermione just stared. He looked horrific. His hair was sticking up in some places. His eyes were sunken and dull, rimmed with black. His face looked hollow and his skin looked cold. He looked lifeless, like a ghost almost. "Come. Haywood as well." He snapped, spinning on his heel and exiting the room with the girls behind him.
They met Theodore in the garden and his eyes widened when they landed on Malfoy.
"Christ, mate." he breathed out. Hermione couldn't see whatever expression made Theodore's nostrils flare in reply. The shorter man started shuffling through a bag then, producing three vials nearly out of thin air. "Sober Up," he stated, forcing one into the man's palm. "Pepper Up," he announced with the second and the third came with no introduction other than a wordless glare from Theodore.
Just as Malfoy had downed the potions, both he and Theodore hissed in unison, hands flying to cover their forearms almost simultaneously - Draco's reflexes just the slightest bit quicker.
"Time to go," Malfoy said through gritted teeth, grabbing Hermione's elbow and apparating immediately.
They materialised at the base of the colosseum.
It had to be a sin, somewhere, the efficacy with which the beautiful structure had been entirely tainted. Everywhere she looked Hermione saw blood and tombstones and the faces of her classmates who had perished in blood soaked fist fights.
"The Dark Lord requests our presence before the fights begin."
Hermione nodded and followed after Malfoy to Voldemort's viewing box. The way he walked was odd. It was bionic, mechanical - like he had shards of glass beneath his skin forcing him into unnaturally still and upright positions. His movements lacked any sort of telegraphing; it was like he walked on nothing, floated, head held high and stiff. It looked painful.
The throne in the room was new. It was disturbing looking and almost seemed carved from bone or some other morbid material. Nagini was curled around one of the sharpened, white protrusions near Voldemort's head. Harry was kneeling on the ground beside his feet. Bellatrix sat in a chair to his right, Narcissa kneeling at her feet. She felt the tension in Malfoy triple.
"Hermione!" Ginny's voice bounced off the walls of the box and Hermione's eyes watered. Her friend's belly had grown substantially since she'd last seen her.
"Ginny," she breathed. Ginny pulled hard at the hand gripping her arm. Harry's eyes found his girlfriend's.
"Stop, please, Ginny." he whispered, hissing when Voldemort gave the chain a sharp tug.
"It's okay, Gin. I'm okay. Are you okay?" Hermione rushed the words, trying to fit them in before Malfoy's eyes landed on her, filled with warning and anger.
Silence. She'd expected the command, lips pressing tightly together while Ginny nodded.
"It's a boy, I think." Ginny's smile looked more like a grimace.
"How sssssweet." Voldemort stroked the snake's head. "Come forward, Draco, Mudblood." Draco's fingers dug hard into her elbow as he pulled her along with him.
Hermione's body language had noticeably changed since their last audience with Voldemort. The defiance had been almost completely drained away by isolation and imprisonment and hopelessness. Malfoy heard everything she thought. He controlled what she could and could not do. She couldn't so much as touch a door or a window, or think about touching a door or a window, so how the hell was she supposed to save the world. Fuck.
Malfoy twitched beside her.
"Very good, Draco." Voldemort purred, reaching out and dragging a finger along Hermione's collarbone. She flinched and the immortal wizard giggled.
"Thank you, My Lord." He bowed.
"Let me see," Voldemort flourished his hand.
Malfoy stepped forward instantly and dropped to one knee.
Hermione watched his eyes flare with the effort it took to keep them open under the invisible assault. The only other indication of pain was his palm pressing into the ground in front of him, fingers going white with the force used to keep himself upright.
"Bellatrix, if you would." Voldemort beckoned her forward and the bubble of glee that burst on the insane woman's lips made Hermione nauseous. She danced towards her nephew, curling around him and dragging disgusting nails down his neck. Hermione only made it through a couple of seconds, watching in horror, until Bellatrix's tongue dove directly into her nephew's mouth. "Very good." Voldemort bared his teeth at her in what was supposed to be an approving smile. Hermione heard Malfoy's grunt even with her eyes shut tight, much to her dismay.
What was the point in-
The hold on Malfoy's mind released and Bellatrix's pulled away from him, leaving him trembling, though it was barely visible, in the middle of the circle of Death Eaters.
"Your Occlumency has improved, in spite of the - distractions." he eyed Bellatrix distastefully.
"Yes, my Lord." his voice held strong, somehow. "I've practised - for you." he bowed his head. "Your secrets, my Lord, are safe with me."
"Hm," Voldemort hummed. "Bellatrix, you'll need to be more creative it seems."
"Gladly, my Lord." she bared her teeth menacingly.
"You may rise." Voldemort stroked through Malfoy's hair, trailing a finger down his cheek as he stood, head bowed. The feeling in Hermione's gut was so far past disgust and guilt and anger and-
"I quite like this new side of the brightest witch of your age. Don't you, Harry?" Harry scowled. "Careful, my boy, or I may just request a live show." Voldemort purred.
"I've been dying to know if the Golden Girl has a Golden Cunt, haven't you?" Dolohov growled. Harry's lips pressed together so tightly they turned white. Ginny's face turned as red as her hair. Malfoy didn't so much as twitch.
Another light went out inside of Hermione.
Ginny turned her head just enough to spit directly in the Death Eater's face.
"Eat shit, Dolohov." she hissed.
"No!" Hermione shrieked, just moments before Dolohov's backhand collided with Ginny's cheek, sprawling her across the floor.
"I'll kill you!" Harry screamed, thrashing in his chains. "I'll kill all of you."
Stay the fuck still. Malfoy's voice vibrated off the walls of her mind.
"Is that all you've got for me Dolo-dick?" Ginny grinned up at the man, teeth shining with bright red blood. The man grew more furious, drawing his wand just as Ginny curled protectively around her abdomen. "I was hoping for a little more than foreplay."
"Ginny," Harry pleaded, Dolohov raising Ginny's body into the air.
"Release her, Antonin." Voldemort's voice was low and deep and calm but still somehow completely permeated with fury. "I will not ask again," he said. It was hard to hear him over the roaring in Hermione's ears, Harry's screaming, Malfoy's voice in her mind saying things she wasn't paying attention to. "Draco," Voldemort sighed, granting permission for something Hermione was not privy to.
Then Ginny was crashing to a heavy pile on the floor, laughing. Malfoy was stiff with pain, Dolohov's wand trained on him with an infuriated look on his face. The wordless crucio was seizing Malfoy's limbs, blood from some other curse seeping from various wounds but aside from the blood, you would never have been able to tell by looking at the concrete nothingness staring back at Antonin Dolohov.
Dolohov's body went suddenly still, held in stasis by Malfoy's wand.
"My Lord?" Malfoy arched a blond brow at Voldemort, waiting for the command.
Hermione watched her old schoolmate's face. She searched for any trace of emotion, regret, fear. She looked for Sixth Year Draco.
There was nothing.
Voldemort's head tipped, barely. The movement was almost completely nonexistent, and then-
"Evicera," Malfoy's lips formed the words to a spell Hermione had never heard and Dolohov's innards spilled out onto the ground, Nagini descending on them instantly.
Hermione's vomit joined the mess of organs almost immediately and Malfoy lowered his wand before Dolohov's body had even hit the floor.
"Does anyone else have anything they'd like to say?" Voldemort's snake eyes searched the room and the faces within it.
No one spoke. There was no sound except for Dolohov gasping for air, Hermione clearing her throat against the burn of bile, Draco's blood dripping onto the floor and Ginny's nearly audible joy.
"Lucius,"
"My Lord," The man bowed so low his hair brushed the ground.
Gods, it smelled horrific. Death, decay, rot and misery crammed into a confined space.
Hermione thought she was shivering. She couldn't quite tell. Her vision shook like she was but she felt nothing. She felt numb and she wondered if this was how Malfoy felt, cold to it all even when he was literally exsanguinating at her side.
"The Weasley girl is yours." Lucius straightened and Ginny's smirk promptly fell off of her face. Harry looked as though he might drop dead any moment and if Hermione had any room in her soul for anything else, the dread might have suffocated her.
My father will obey him. Malfoy's voice filtered through the panic and numbed it a bit.
"She is not to be harmed. You know how I hate to repeat myself. Do not disappoint me." the hiss trailed off into nothing and only then did Lucius rise.
"Of course, my Lord." He inched backwards, disappearing into the ranks.
"Bella," the psychotic woman danced into the room - when had she left?-, pulling her sister along as though they were girls, skipping through a flower field. Narcissa stumbled along behind her, humming quietly to herself. "Andromeda. Have you found her? Or the child?" Harry went rigid.
"No, my Lord." she pouted.
So did Malfoy, if only for the briefest moment before the reaction evaporated into thin air.
"No, my Lord." she pouted. "But I will," she began again, chaotic enthusiasm dripping from rotten teeth like venom. "I'm using my blood now. My blood to find her blood because it's the same, my Lord." His eyes narrowed.
"I surely hope not." He hummed. Bellatrix paled and scrambled backwards a bit. "Find the traitor or I will assign the task to your dear nephew." She nodded and wrapped her arms around one of Narcissa's. "Draco, Bella has requested your company in her box during today's show." Malfoy's head tipped downwards in acceptance. "Clean yourself up and rejoin your aunt. You are dismissed."
The blond nodded and took a step backwards, turning on his heel and pushing Hermione out of the room ahead of him. He'd gone grey when she was finally able to turn her head and look at him.
"Walk." He snapped.
"Are you-" The sound that cut her off mid question was halfway between a snarl and a laugh; brutal and disbelieving and unforgiving.
"Do not pretend to care, Mudblood. It does not become you." He pushed her forward again, hard enough that she tripped over her feet and faced forward once again.
"Why has he not gone through-looked at mine? My memories?"
"It can be taxing. He assigned me the task of going through the head of each enslaved at the time of capture. He was very busy. I now monitor your mind and the Dark Lord goes through mine frequently. It would be duplicative. And unnecessary."
"Oh," Hermione replied quietly, memorising and filing away the reply for analysis.
"Well, good." She said lamely. For now though, the entrance to the pit was looming in front of her, lines of classmates and old professors surrounding her.
"This whole spectacle seems like a waste of time." Hermione said quietly. "Why not just kill us and move on with it." Malfoy's huff almost sounded like a laugh.
"You've answered your own question." he responded. "It's a spectacle. The Dark Lord quite enjoys those. He has been bested by the likes of Potter for eighteen years. As you can imagine, the most powerful wizard in the world does not take kindly to being beaten by an infant. He has almost two decades worth of mortification for which to punish you lot, two decades worth of anger. He intends to use you, true, and he will. He'll send a message. But not before he makes you suffer for interfering over the years. He wants the most powerful Mudblood. That's you, undoubtedly. Your magic was impressive." Hermione flinched at the use of past tense. "But this is a game; the Golden Trio are pawns and your friends are nothing but fodder."
"Fuck, Draco." It was a new voice, one she didn't recognize and when she looked up, a tall man with dark skin loomed off to her right, Mask clutched in his hand as he stared Malfoy down angrily. "Go fix your shit." His quiet, deep voice left no room for argument. He was taking inventory of each blood soaked bit of Malfoy's robes. The blond gave a terse nod and shoved Hermione towards him. She stumbled and a dark hand closed around her bicep, steadying her. "I'm Blaise… Pleasure."